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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951697">Parenthood; a Journey, a Struggle, a Gift by Bestselling Author Sandra McDonald</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humanities_Handbag/pseuds/Humanities_Handbag'>Humanities_Handbag</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Found Family, The Wachowski's read a parenting book, but they'll get there eventually, rated for language, they have a single brain cell between them</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:07:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24951697</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Humanities_Handbag/pseuds/Humanities_Handbag</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom found the book on the bestseller table and had to laugh. It was an awful book. A terrible book. One of those preachy hardcovers filled with impossible advice by self-described "perfect parents". </p><p>His laughter stops when he realizes;</p><p>1) they're parents now</p><p>2) they've got no clue how to do this</p><p>3) apparently, despite everything, Sonic thinks just some friends letting him crash in the attic</p><p>Tom buys the book.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maddie Wachowski/Tom Wachowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>258</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Parenthood; a Journey, a Struggle, a Gift by Bestselling Author Sandra McDonald</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=solar-socks">solar-socks</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebigpalooka/gifts">thebigpalooka</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Don't worry everyone - I'm still working on my therapy fic. New chapters will be coming out soon.</p><p>This is mostly a crack fic that evolved when I put together "Sonic thinks they're just friends" with "Maddie and Tom have no clue what they're doing" and threw in a terrible baby book for good measure. </p><p>Enjoy the chaos. </p><p>This is for solar-socks, thebigpalooka, and smallpwblles - three artists with incredible styles and story telling skills who inspire so many of us. Do yourself a favor and check them out. This is a small token of that inspiration and gratitude. I'm sure there will be more in the future!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I think it would be really good for him,” said Maddie, pouring herself another tea, reaching into a cabinet for the honey. “He’s been sneaking around for <em> years </em> . He’s never lived with people. He’s never seen the town as a <em> resident </em>. It would be good for him.” </p><p></p><div class="">
  <p>“Totally,” said Tom, “it’ll be <em> so </em> good for him.” He paused, thinking. “And,” he added, “it’ll be good for other people.”</p>
  <p></p>
  <div class="">
    <p></p>
    <div class="daUfr">
      <p>She lifted her cup, nodding. </p>
      <p>They began discussing it once Sonic had gone to bed. Maddie had brought it up after the third time Sonic had been caught watching television from the doorway, hesitating at the front door, sneaking into the pantry. </p>
      <p>He needed to feel like he belonged. </p>
      <p>And they <em>wanted</em> him to belong.</p>
      <p>So it was decided. Tom and Maddie would help him adjust. Acclimate. They weren’t sure how he’d lived before. He didn’t talk about it much. But moving things from his cave to the attic had given them some idea of his life before, and they were still trying their best to not let the tragedy settle like a roof over them all. </p>
      <p>It had been a little less than a week, but the house had felt fuller. Brighter. His laughs had long since engrained into their walls, and they were grateful for it. His shoes were at the door, a small jacket for colder weather was already hanging in the closet, and an entire room upstairs- </p>
      <p>-they loved it. </p>
      <p>They <em>loved</em> it. </p>
      <p>They loved...</p>
      <p>Well. </p>
      <p>They loved. </p>
      <p>Fully. Wholly. Surprisingly loved. </p>
      <p>And they wanted him to love it, too. </p>
      <p>Which is how Tom ended up with Sonic inside the Rose Street Bookshop on a Saturday morning, watching the blue hedgehog flipping furiously between comics and wondering if they should have taken this entire <em>introduction to society</em> thing a little slower. </p>
      <p>“You know,” said Tom, leaning against the back of a worn green leather chair, watching over his coffee, “they’ll still be here next week. And we can come back.”</p>
      <p>“I know, I <em> know </em>…” The hedgehog was distressed, looking at the comic books he’d fanned out on the floor. “I had no idea there were more issues!”</p>
      <p>“Course there are, bud. Batman didn’t just up and retire to Mexico.”</p>
      <p>Sonic gave him a look. </p>
      <p>Tom sighed. He put his coffee down on the nearby table, sitting cross legged on the floor. “These will be here next week,” he said again, quieter. He nudged his foot out, kicking Sonic’s shoe gently. </p>
      <p>It was hard knowing this was about more than books.</p>
      <p>Tom had seen his comics when they’d cleared out the cave. They’d only been able to salvage a few. The rest had been so badly weathered they’d fallen to wet strips of paper between his fingers, color rubbing off with mildew. They’d all been plucked from garbage cans. All of them loved dearly, over and over to destruction. A harrowing reminder; despite where and how he lived, he was still a kid who wanted so badly to live like one. </p>
      <p><em> What must that have been like </em> , he wanted to ask, <em> living on the outside of everything and still trying to be a part of it </em> . <em> Taking care of yourself and wanting to be a child </em>. He swallowed the thought and asked, instead, “Where did you leave off?”</p>
      <p>“I don’t know…” The poor kid was looking more overwhelmed by the moment, tugging absently on his shoelaces. They were beginning to unravel. “Last one I picked up was five years ago. I don’t even know if I still <em> have </em> that one!” </p>
      <p>“We can check when we get home,” said Tom.</p>
      <p>“But we’re here <em> now </em>.” </p>
      <p>Tom prodded through the comics. “Okay. So why don’t we start with a new storyline, alright?” He chose three of the comics. Batman. Superman. Green Lantern. He remembered them from when he was a kid, and Wayne still sometimes picked one up on his break. “These are all beginnings. Published pretty recently.” At his pained face, Tom added, “the kids at school will be reading these ones.”</p>
      <p>“Right.” Sonic nodded, flicking through them. </p>
      <p>“Right,” repeated Tom. His mouth felt dry. Maybe it was too soon for him…  </p>
      <p>He shook the thought away, standing to his feet. No. Not too soon for him. He was the adult here. He was the <em> adult </em>. The child in front of him was a kid, and he was the adult, and he was the one who had to handle it like one. </p>
      <p>He took a sip of coffee, trying to burn the bad taste of the thought out of his throat. It didn’t work. </p>
      <p>“Hey, bud,” he said, watching Sonic flipping through the colorful pages, “I’ll be in the next aisle, alright?”</p>
      <p>“Mmmhm,” said Sonic, squinting at Green Lantern. </p>
      <p>It was a little easier to breathe when he walked away. He took another long sip of coffee, avoiding the vengeful glare of the book seller from behind his counter. <em> If you spill a drop </em>, his eyes warned. </p>
      <p>Tom held his coffee a little tighter, passing through the biographies, the science fiction, the horror. He picked up a few books and put them back down, reading the back covers and wondering idly if Maddie would want any. </p>
      <p>It wasn’t until he found his way to the front of the store, his hip catching on the corner of the best-seller table, that he saw the book. </p>
      <p>It was a garish orange and yellow cover, the face of a woman stuck in the middle smiling psychotically out at him with huge, bleached white teeth. And in bright blue letters over her grinning head; <b><em>Parenthood; a Journey, a Struggle, a Gift</em></b> by Sandra McDonald. </p>
      <p>“Oh jeez…” He snorted, picking it up. Early on in their marriage, Maddie and he had made fun of books like these. They had been in all their friends' houses (once all their friends began having kids, and subsequently began asking <em> them </em> when <em> they </em> were going to begin having kids). They’d read them in corners, laughing over advice that praised things like family trust falls and admonished greasy food, video games, and competitive sports. </p>
      <p>He opened it, drawing his phone out of his pocket, beginning a text to Maddie. </p>
      <p>
        <em> Found another one. Remember these? Almost tempted to buy for shits and gigs lol </em>
      </p>
      <p>He opened it, ready to laugh, reading the first page. </p>
      <p>
        <b> <em>You’ve Got the Bundle, Now Where’s the Joy?</em> </b>
      </p>
      <p>It was a horrible chapter title. </p>
      <p>A <em> terrible </em> title. </p>
      <p>Probably one of the worst, cheesiest things he’d read.</p>
      <p>And yet, the laugh didn’t come. </p>
      <p>Nor did it come when he’d read through the first page and flipped to the second. And then the third. </p>
      <p><em> Oh </em> , he thought absently. <em> Oh shit </em>. </p>
      <p>He was on the sixth page when he felt a poke to his knee. Sonic was at his feet, holding up the Flash. “Picked on!” He flipped through to show Tom. “Look! I went back to the shelves. They <em> totally </em> updated him from when I first got here! And besides, most of mine are vintage anyway! His costume is loads better…” He trickled off, eyes flickering to the book in Tom’s hands. “What’s that?”</p>
      <p>“Nothing-” Tom put it back on the table, “come on. Let’s check out, yeah? You can show Maddie what you got.”</p>
      <p>“She likes superheroes?”</p>
      <p>“Oh, loves them.” </p>
      <p>He pays for Sonic’s comic. When they’re back out the door, Tom stutters, patting down his jacket. “Oh shoot, bud. Forgot my keys.” He stepped back towards the door. “Just stay by the car, alright? I’ll be right there.”</p>
      <p>The book is where he left it, stacked crookedly with the others, and he hands it across the counter, passing the woman a few bills. </p>
      <p>“Aw,” she dropped it into a little paper bag and handed him his change. “You and your wife having a baby?”</p>
      <p>“Uh. No,” he laughed a little awkwardly, looking at the ceiling, the floor, anywhere but her, “There just isn’t a Raging Panic about Sudden Parenthood for Dummies, you know?”</p>
      <p>She didn’t look like she knew, so he strained out a laugh again and stuffed the book into his jacket. </p>
      <p>Sonic looked up from his comic. “What took you so long?” </p>
      <p>“Keys were under a shelf,” he lied smoothly. “Come on, let’s get back. You can tell me about the Flash’s costume.” </p>
      <p>He tucked the book under his own seat before Sonic could notice. </p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Maddie was thrilled to hear about the adventure at the bookstore. </p>
      <p>She boiled pasta while Tom chopped basil. Sonic was helping smear butter onto a baguette for garlic bread. </p>
      <p>“I got a new comic,” said Sonic. “And Tom says we can go back next week to get the next one!”</p>
      <p>“Maybe I can come too, next time, when I’m not working.”</p>
      <p>"Yes," Sonic said, licking butter off his ungloved fingers. "You'd love it! They've got a whole section of romance, Maddie. A <em>whole section</em>. Like those movies you like? I told Tom we should have gotten you one today, but he said-"</p>
      <p>Everything was going well. Just as they’d planned. </p>
      <p>Maddie looked at Tom. Tom looked back at Maddie. </p>
      <p>When it came time to get ready for bed, Sonic stood by the stairs, watching them with huge eyes, ears pinned. </p>
      <p>“I’ll come say goodnight soon, alright?” said Maddie, sipping her tea. </p>
      <p>Sonic nodded. He held the comic book to his chest. He had been taking care to read it as slowly as he could manage. He shifted from foot to foot, looking over at Tom, who was petting Ozzie’s head on his lap. “Thanks for taking me,” breathed Sonic, holding the comic book close. “This is really nice of you guys to do.”</p>
      <p>“What?” Tom looked up. “Of course, bud. Why wouldn’t we?”</p>
      <p>Sonic shrugged. “I don’t know. Just… it’s nice. I never had people to show me around and let me sleep in their house. It’s just…” He hugs the comic closer. “Nice.” His smile went a little wider. "Hey! I finished my bucket list, Donut Lord!"</p>
      <p>The words touch something a little raw in Tom, but he did his best to ignore it. It fought back with persistence. The kid didn’t say anything wrong. He was being polite. He was always so polite. </p>
      <p>The feeling cackled. </p>
      <p>Maddie looked between Sonic and Tom. She mouthed <em>what list</em><em>?</em></p>
      <p>Tom waved her off. <em>Tell you later</em>, he mouthed back. The feeling in his chest got a little bigger. "That's great, bud," he said, doing his best to shove it down. "See you in the morning." </p>
      <hr/>
      <p>The book is in his hand that night after dinner and a movie, and he’s still  reading it when Maddie is back in the room. “I tucked Sonic in. You know, that trip definitely did him good. He’s been reading that comic book. Raving about going back to the bookstore with you.”</p>
      <p>“That’s good.” He turned the page. “Did you think it was weird? What he said after dinner?”</p>
      <p>“Hmm? No. Why?”</p>
      <p>“No reason.” He flipped the page again. </p>
      <p>Maddie popped the lid on the lotion from her bedside table. She was in the midst of running it over the backs of her hands when she spotted the book he was reading. A smile broke her face in half. “<em> A Journey, a Struggle, a Gift </em> ?” She snorted. “Oh, <em> Thomas </em>. Are you pregnant or something? You’d tell me if you were, right?”</p>
      <p>“Shut up,” snipped Tom. “And… I may or may not have picked this up at the bookstore.” </p>
      <p>“A <em> baby </em> book.” She capped the lotion, laughed, and crawled under the covers. “You wasted good money on this?”</p>
      <p>“It spoke to me.”</p>
      <p>“What did it say?”</p>
      <p>He turned to the cover. Sandra McDonald was still smiling at him from there. Psychotically. “It may or may not have caused a miniature panic attack in the bookstore.”</p>
      <p>“Your English teachers would be proud.”</p>
      <p>“I’m serious.”</p>
      <p>“Which is worrying me.” Maddie propped herself onto the beadboard. He gave her a look. She sighed, leaning back. Her head <em> thunked </em> lightly against the wall. “Alright. Fine. What’s all the fuss about.”</p>
      <p>Tom flipped back to a page he’d dog eared in the first chapter and pointed. </p>
      <p>Maddie took the book. She looked ready to make fun of him, preparing a wry smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. </p>
      <p>That promptly dropped moments later. </p>
      <p>“Um…” She said. She went back to the beginning of the passage. She read it again. “Oh…” She said. “Oh <em> shit </em>.”</p>
      <p>“Yeah.” He crossed his arms. “Which is why I panicked in the middle of a <em> bookstore </em>.”</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p></p>
      <blockquote>
        <p><em> Hello there, new parents! I’m glad you’ve found time to open my book. You may be here as a first time reader, or you may have come from reading one of my many other books on parenting and the joy of children (including works such as </em> Baby Got Back (into bed) <em> and </em> A Healthy Family is a Happy Family; Baby’s First Keto <em> ).  </em></p>
        <p><em> My name is Sandra McDonald. I am the CEO and writer of </em> Modern and Mindful Mommy. <em> I am a self proclaimed Professional Parent of a beautiful and wonderful child and a proud wife of a strong family. Through all my experiences, I quickly learned how to teach others to follow in my footsteps, from anxious first timers, to perfect mothers. </em></p>
      </blockquote>
      <br/>
      <p>“Jesus,” said Maddie. “That’s <em> awful </em>.”</p>
      <p>“I know...”</p>
      <p> </p>
      <p></p>
      <blockquote>
        <p>
          <em>  If you’re opening this particular work, however, it’s because you have finally made a tremendous step as a human on this Earth and have adopted your very own child.  </em>
        </p>
        <p>
          <em> This book is an exploration of adopted children and addresses the fears and anxieties that new parents may or may not experience.  </em>
        </p>
        <p><em> In my time as the lead writer of </em> Modern and Mindful Mommy <em> , I’ve spent much of my time reflecting on my own parenting skills. Branching out and hearing the stories of others has allowed me to relate, understand, and come to where I am today writing this book for adopted families.  </em></p>
        <p>
          <em> I’ve found that many parents of older children may feel a little bit lost. Perhaps they haven’t had time to address or understand their new family structure yet. Or maybe their child isn’t aware of their importance in the new dynamic, as many older children adopted into families have experienced levels of grief and abandonment that some of us will never understand.  </em>
        </p>
        <p>
          <em> My hope is to give you a gateway into understanding their past and addressing your new futures as a family. Realize who you are to yourself and to them! You are parents! Welcome to a lifetime of hardship and joy! </em>
        </p>
        <p>
          <em> I would encourage you to begin by going to my blog at- </em>
        </p>
      </blockquote>
      <br/>
      <p>The rest of the page went on to give her blog name as well as a few more book titles that used to make Tom send himself into a stitch laughing, but hadn’t fazed him yet. Instead, he and Maddie sat there, the book open between them. </p>
      <p>“Oh,” said Maddie.</p>
      <p>“Yeah,” said Tom. </p>
      <p>“You know… now that I’m thinking about it…” She stared at the page. “Now that I’m <em> really </em> thinking about it…” She turned towards him with huge eyes. “Tom? We’re parents, aren’t we.”</p>
      <p>“Yeah, Maddie,” he said, staring ahead, gripping the covers. “We are.”</p>
      <p>They sat there, silent another long moment. </p>
      <p>Sonic’s words from after dinner had been rattling around in Tom’s head for the last hour, and they came back again. He reached out without looking and touched Maddie’s shoulder. “Maddie? Sonic said thank you to us tonight.”</p>
      <p>“He did.”</p>
      <p>“He said thank you for letting him <em> sleep here </em>.”</p>
      <p>Maddie opened her mouth. She closed it. Opened it again. </p>
      <p>And then; “Oh <em> fuck </em>.”</p>
      <p>“Yup.”</p>
      <p>“Tom!”</p>
      <p>“I know.”</p>
      <p>“We invited him over-”</p>
      <p>“I know.”</p>
      <p>“We got him a <em> bed </em> . We gave him a <em> room </em>!”</p>
      <p>“I <em> know </em>.”</p>
      <p>“We wanted him to stay with us!” Her eyes got bigger. “We wanted him to stay but we never had a <em> talk </em> ?” She cupped her face between her hands. “Did we even <em> talk </em>to him about this?”</p>
      <p>“We never. Talked. About this. With him.” Tom fisted his hair. “He made a list."</p>
      <p>"What's with this list?"</p>
      <p>"A <em>bucket list</em>, Maddie. That's what he was talking about tonight. He made a list. On our road trip. He wanted to... to make a friend. That was on his <em>list</em>." </p>
      <p>“So he has <em>no clue</em> <em>what we are</em>?”</p>
      <p>“Oh my god,” Tom said. </p>
      <p>“He’s been here a <em> week </em> , Tom! A <em> week </em> !” She grabbed his hand, a thought suddenly popping into her head. “Dinner. Tonight. Tom- <em> what he said </em> . That it was nice to have people show him around. To have people let him stay over.” She pulled the skin on her face down a little. “ <em> Tom. </em> Does he think he’s staying here as a… a <em> guest </em>?”</p>
      <p>“Oh my god,” Tom said, again.</p>
      <p>“Does he think we’re just his… <em> pals </em>?”</p>
      <p>“Oh. My. God,” said Tom. </p>
      <p>“Just some dudes with a spare room?”</p>
      <p>“Ohhh my God,” moaned Tom. </p>
      <p>“I’m panicking,” said Maddie gripping the front of her shirt. “Tom, it’s been a week. And now we’re parents. And he thinks we’re just generous dudes with an attic. And I’m panicking.”</p>
      <p>“You can’t panic,” panicked Tom. “Not while I’m panicking!”</p>
      <p>“He thinks we’re just <em> housing </em> him.” She threw herself back, head <em> thumping </em> into the pillows. “What do we <em> do </em>!”</p>
      <p>Tom followed suit. He fell onto the pillows, book flat on his chest. </p>
      <p>They lay there, breathing together. Outside, cars passed on the road by their house, their headlights playing long long beams across the ceiling. </p>
      <p>“We didn’t want kids.” The confession was quiet from Tom. “We used to talk about it all the time. That we didn’t want kids.”</p>
      <p>The pillow next to him shook with Maddie’s sardonic laugh. “Yeah. Always thought Ozzie would be enough.”</p>
      <p>“But now…?”</p>
      <p>She sighed, long and low. “I couldn’t live without our kid.”</p>
      <p>Tom smiled. The panic was clinging, but it was a dull, sad thrum. “Neither could I.” A beat. “He thinks we’re just <em> housing him </em>. Doesn’t even know- god. Maddie. I want him to be my kid, and he doesn’t even know.”</p>
      <p>“Our kid.” Maddie grabbed his hand. “And we’ll make sure he knows.”</p>
      <p>Tom lifted the book up from off his chest. Sandra McDonald smiled psychotically down at them. “Think the author of Modern and Mindful Mommy’s can help?”</p>
      <p>“Well,” said Maddie, “the back of the book <em> does </em> say she’s a professional parent.”</p>
      <p>That was true. </p>
      <p>The back of the book <em> did </em> say that. </p>
      <p>And she <em> was </em> a bestseller. OVER ONE MILLION COPIES SOLD! the cover screamed. </p>
      <p>Tom opened the book above them. “I was skimming through it before.” said Tom, “Sandra McDonald says that it’s hard for new kids to adjust. She says something about this processing period being normal.”</p>
      <p>Maddie sat up a little. “Where does it say that?”</p>
      <p>“Chapter three.” He pointed to the table of contents. “<b> <em>The Most Powerful Ruby Slipper is the Heart.</em> </b>” </p>
      <p>“I think I just threw up a little.”</p>
      <p>“Do you want to learn or not?”</p>
      <p>“Definitely,” said Maddie. “I definitely want to learn.” She wiggled a little under the covers, pulling them up under her armpits. “We’re going to make him see- we can be parents.”</p>
      <p>"We can be parents," he agreed, and turned to page 36.</p>
    </div>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>chapter 2: Sandra McDonald has more advice that is dumb. Tom and Maddie will naturally follow it.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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